The Sunny Side of Hell
by Rochelle B2
Summary: Xander wishes for a better world. Buffy isn’t a slayer, Spike isn’t a vampire, and Xan's lived in San Francisco most of his life. Now he’s headed back to Sunnydale and about to learn that some things never change. SX
1. Wishes and Angels

The Sunny Side of Hell

Disclaimer #1: Logic problem: I am not Joss. Joss owns. Therefore I do not own.

Disclaimer #2: I'm just not creative enough to come up with my own OCs, therefore Sage belongs to Dimitri Aidan, who also supplied this idea.

Author: Rochelle B

Dedications: Dimitri Aidan, who needs a life in the worst way and Aloysha Star, who is God when it comes to 'guy emotions' and gay sex. Because he's a slut. Seriously, ask him, he'll tell you.

Rating: R to NC-17

Parings: Various. Main: Xander/Spike

Warnings: Slash, language, sex, violence... Alternate Universe. Rape, angst, fluff.

Summery: Xander wishes for a better world. Buffy isn't a slayer, Spike isn't a vampire, and he's lived in San Francisco most his life. Now he's headed back to Sunnydale and about to learn that some things never change.

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Chapter One

Wishes and Angels

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Alexander Harris had to admit that, for all his cheerful letters and wide smiles, his life sucked a lot of ass. Here he was, alone in Africa with one eye gouged out and no idea what the hell he was doing anymore. While the good fight wasn't exactly over it wasn't really his fight anymore.

He was destined to be the guy who told the new slayers stories about the 'good old days' while they smiled and rolled their eyes at the pathetic old guy. He wasn't even out of his twenties and already he was looking back bitterly. He knew he couldn't fight anymore; with one eye and a series of lingering scars and aches from his years as a Scooby he would be of even less use now than he'd been before, a triumph in and of itself.

True, Giles had offered him a position in the new Watcher's Council but Xander had never been one for authority type things, had a serious mad-on for the Council in general, and, if those wasn't good enough reasons, he just didn't want to. He hated the idea of being put out to pasture and given some kind of desk or research job.

He longed to hold an ax, just one more time, and see a vamp turn to dust in front of him.

"Hullo Alexander." A slightly raspy voice remarked. Xander jumped; surprised that anyone in the dive he'd chosen to drown his sorrows in knew his name. Or English for that matter. French was the language of choice around here and damn if it wasn't a total pain in his ass.

The man who'd spoken looked about his age, maybe a bit younger, and had sandy brown hair and the most intense blue eyes Xander had ever seen, though they were hidden behind wire-frame glasses and thick lashes, a shade or two darker than the man's hair. There was something very familiar about him, but at the same time very…unfamiliar.

Xander blamed the three beers for his lack of mental coherency.

His accent was English, more on the 'Stick-up the ass Wesley' spectrum of things. Very refined and formal.

Xander had learned there were lots of English accents. There was the aforementioned, then there was 'Slightly Stuffy Giles' and 'Ripper Giles/Had my throat sliced open Wesley' and 'Spike'. There were probably others but Xander had yet to be exposed to them.

"Do I know you?"

The man smiled. "After a fashion. Doesn't really matter. I've been sent by the Powers That Be."

Xander squinted, not sure if he was excited or annoyed. The PTB usually lead to adventure of some sort and while Xander wasn't ready to give it up, he wasn't really sure he wanted part in whatever they were pitching.

He was really quite contrary these days. He picked up his beer, one of those good strong English kinds that Spike had gotten him drinking, and swirled it around some.

"What're you?"

The man was silent for a moment, as if considering. "Vengeance demon in training, I suppose. The Powers seem to think you've been rather…cruelly used in your lifetime and want to offer you a…gift, as a reward for all that you've done over the years. Since I need a good wish under my belt and you cared so much for one of our kind it was suggested that I offer you that reward."

Anya. It'd been almost two years and still her name spoke aloud was like a dagger through the heart, twisting and plunging deeper with every breath he took. To say he'd cared for her was a gross understatement. He'd loved her, like he'd never quite managed to care for anyone else. Yeah, he'd left her at the alter and he'd occasionally been annoyed with her or teased her or…a million other things, but he'd loved her so much that it had hurt.

He took a drink.

"I see. No pun intended."

The man snorted lightly. "Obviously. But yes, you do see. You are the one who sees, you always have been. It's rather amusing that Caleb was the first person to notice it, considering the people you hung out with."

"See me, not laughing?" Xander snapped. Then, softer and more curious. "What's that mean? The one who sees?"

"Err. Right then. Sorry mate." A nervous chuckle colored the words. "And it means…that you saw. A supernatural sight of sorts, carried in your bloodline. You might be interested to know you're descended from a long line of powerful gypsy conjurers." Not really, but Xander didn't say that. "You've been possessed, kidnapped, beaten, and nearly killed more times than The Slayer herself, but you still stand, but more than that you see people. Most attribute it to observance or luck, but you can read to the very core of most souls.

"If your power had been spotted and nurtured you could have been a great witch…wizard…magic-user, not to mention fighter. You didn't have to spend your life as a demon-magnet and donut fetcher."

Way to hit a sore spot. Xander just took another drink and stared at the countertop balefully. Somehow hearing what he could have been didn't make him feel any better about himself. As if sensing that his companion cleared his throat then sighed.

"Sorry, again. The point is you have a chance to fix things. Regain your eye, bring your home back, send all demons away. You want it and you can have it. Just tell me what you wish for."

Xander snorted. Sure, what the hell? There was no way anyone, least of all a demon-in-training, could hope to grant him what he truly wanted. He wanted a better life for everyone he'd ever cared for, everyone who'd ever fallen fighting the good-fucking-fight and never been acknowledged, he wanted his girls to be happy, he wanted…man did he want.

He wished that Buffy hadn't been a slayer and that she and Dawn had just been happy. He wished Willow had never gone magic crazy, he wished Tara and Cordy and Joyce and even Wesley hadn't died, he wished Anya had never met him, he wish Spike hadn't had to sacrifice himself for the good of the world, twice without so much as a fucking thank you from the Powers That be. He wished Giles had been able to have a family, a real family like he deserved and that all of the crazy shit in Sunnydale hadn't driven his parents to the brink. He wished he hadn't killed his best friend and that Oz wasn't god only knew where.

"What about you?" The man's tone was a whisper, almost reverent. Xander hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud and sighed.

"I never really wanted much for myself." He looked over at the demon, who just stared back over the top of his glasses. "I just wanted for my family."

"Nothing at all?"

"I just…wish I could do it over in a world where they had a chance at being happy."

The man let out a breath, eyes rolling heavenward as seeking some sort of answer. And, really for all that Xander knew he was, and then smiled, eyes flaring bright gold. "Wish granted."

The world began to swirl violently, as if Xander had been tossed into a blender and turned on high, only with less screaming and blood. The man stayed still though and his smile turned from soft to feral while an eyebrow quirked in an all too familiar manner. Xander knew whom exactly he was sitting with, just like that. Should have known before, there was only one guy in the history of the world who could stand to sit around and drink with him.

"Spike?"

"You've done good whelp." Spike was surrounded in a soft white light, that didn't suit him in the least and was gone, leaving on Xander and the white light which was coming closer and threatened to slam into him like a mack truck.

And then it did and he felt a brief flash of pain, indescribable pain like being ripped apart from the inside and then slammed together all at once. He sat upright, not really remembering lying down, and couldn't keep the shout from leaving his lips.

His eyes darted around. Everything was white, whiter than white, and smelled like ammonia and bleach…no, worse than that. It smelled like ammonia, bleach, and flowery perfume that someone had tried to mask the first two scents with. He wrinkled his nose and looked down at himself. A white sheet was covering him but his upper body was covered in a gray t-shirt. He frowned at the white gauze that wound its way up his arms, starting at his wrist and going about halfway up to his elbow.

To his left were flowers, just beginning to wilt and brown around the leaves. To the right were large windows, opening out into an unfamiliar nighttime landscape.

"Oh my god!" He turned, blinking at the woman standing in the doorway to the room, one hand clasped over her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. Behind her was a man, tall and built, who looked torn between joy and fear. "Xander! You're awake! We were so worried about you, oh my god."

"Mom?" He felt like he hadn't seen them in…forever, longer than that even. And she seemed…different. More alert than he remembered, but he wasn't sure why he thought that. An image of a haggard looking woman, with bags under her eyes and graying hair in disarray flashed through his mind but he dismissed it. That wasn't his mother.

The tears started flowing as she raced across the room and threw her arms around him. Her body, thin and almost fragile, shook as she sobbed. The scene seemed vaguely familiar to him and so, going with that feeling, he reached up and wrapped his arms around her.

"I was so worried, you scared me, I thought you'd never wake up!" Her words came out in a rush and he felt a pang of guilt. He held her tighter, looking up at his father who watched them cautiously. He tried to communicate his confusion with his eyes.

"Lacy, dear, you're going to choke him."

"What? Oh, sorry Xander I…god, I'm sorry." She released him as if he was on fire and started to pull away. He reached out, grabbing her wrist and keeping her from going too far.

"What's going on? Where are we?"

Her brow furrowed. "We're at the hospital."

He glanced out the window. "Unless Sunnydale has gained a river and a really big bridge, I doubt that."

"Sunny…no, we're in San Francisco. We've lived here since you were four, I'm surprised you even remember Sunnydale anymore."

"I…" He did remember, now that she said it. Her, his father, him, and…something. School, friends, the dog…right. San Francisco. "Right. I…forgot. Why'm I in the hospital?"

"You don't remember? Parker?"

Parker…he remembered a boy named Parker. One of the 'loners', kind of a quirky but cool guy. Really cute. In a totally non-homoerotic way of course, just in a noticing that another male of attractive kind of way. But…he'd never so much as spoken two words to the boy. He concentrated, trying to remember something beyond that but couldn't. He shook his head.

"He goes to my school. What about him?"

She just stared at him as she'd never seen him before then looked back at his father. "Curtis? He doesn't remember."

His father nodded tightly then walked over, hands clenched at his side. "What's the last thing you remember son? Think hard."

"I…school. High school, you bought me that leather jacket and gave me a talk about being a man now." As the words flowed from his mouth, as if coming from someone else, they became real, jumping into his mind with perfect color and audio as if they'd always been there.

And they must have been. Memories didn't just pop up after all.

His father was silent for a moment then smiled, a wide smile. His father never smiled at him…no, that wasn't right. He remembered playing football with his dad and seeing the man in the audience, holding his mother and beaming, as he accepted an award for…Science Fair. Eighth grade.

"What happened?"

"You had an accident. You've been in the hospital for a while now, the entire summer."

"Summer? But…it's fall." He was certain of that. He remembered the leaves had just been starting to turn, early for the year.

"Your accident was in May Xander. I think…you've forgotten the entire year."

"I…forgot?"

"It's okay. You feel in with some bad people but everything will be better now. We'll start everything over again. You stay with your mother and I'll find the doctor and call Sage. He'll be so happy to see you."

He left without another word, leaving Xander confused. He turned to his mother, the only thing that seemed truly familiar to him.

"Mom? I…things seem different. I remember people and…things. Bad things. Someone named Caleb I think…" Images, fuzzy as if hidden through a veil, teased the edge of his mind, challenging him to rip the veil aside and see them for what they are. Flashes of distorted faces and gleaming weapons danced over his mind, gone before he could grasp them.

He could feel darkness though. It was…terrible.

"It's okay baby. It was all a dream, a bad dream. You've been asleep for six days straight after all." Her smile seemed fake but he dismissed it and instead turned that over in his mind. A dream. It was a dream. Yes…a dream.

He could already feel the images fading away, becoming nothing more than a strange dream.

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"Nice job." Cordelia commented as she watched her former boyfriend welcome his new life. She had thought he'd put up more of a fight concerning the memories of the life he'd lead, but he seemed to be willing to let them go and accept the new ones.

Anya snorted. "I could have done better."

"He would have known it was you. No disguise could change that. He's The Seer after all." She smiled at her partner-in-afterlife-crime. "Spike was perfect. I don't know why you went for Vengeance Demon though."

"It worked didn't it?" Spike rolled his eyes. "Besides, I doubt Harris would have appreciated me telling him I'd been given wings by the higher ups and was his guardian angel. I don't fucking appreciate it; twisted sense of humor you heavenly begins have Princess."

She smiled cheekily. "I know."

Spike was silent for a moment, watching the boy be fawned over by his still sniffling mother. This woman was a good bit different than the Lacy Harris Spike had encountered while he'd been living with the whelp.

Outside of Sunnydale she and her husband had never been confronted with things they didn't understand or all of their friends dropping like flies before their eyes and so had never taken to drinking. The love had never fizzled out, they'd never had to beat their son to try and make him as twisted as they were, and they were…happy.

After a fashion anyway.

Exactly what the whelp had asked for. Spike shook his head. He just couldn't wrap his mind around that boy being that damn selfless. Willing to give up his reward for everyone else's sake. It was…just too damn good to believe. Did that boy not have a selfish bone in his body?

Then again he was The Seer; the ultimate in White Hats. It was in his nature.

"So what now Princess?"

"He goes back to Sunnydale." She smiled almost sadly. "It's Xander's destiny. You can take the boy off of the Hellmouth-"

"But you can't really take him off." Spike finished.

"Exactly."

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Soo…R&R. Let me know what you think. Should I continue or just pretend this story never happened? I wonder about these things, you know? Low self-esteem or something.


	2. Counting Blue Cars

The Sunny Side of Hell

Disclaimer #1: Logic problem: I am not Joss. Joss owns. Therefore I do not own.

Disclaimer #2: I'm just not creative enough to come up with my own OCs, therefore Sage belongs to Dimitri Aidan, who also supplied this idea.

Author: Rochelle B

Dedications: Dimitri Aidan, who needs a life in the worst way and Aloysha Star, who is God when it comes to 'guy emotions' and gay sex. Because he's a slut. Seriously, ask him, he'll tell you.

Rating: R to NC-17

Parings: Various. Main: Xander/Spike, Faith/Gunn.

Warnings: Slash, language, sex, violence... Alternate Universe. Child abuse, rape, angst, fluff.

Summery: Xander makes a wish and the world changes; Buffy isn't a slayer, Spike isn't a vampire, and he's lived in LA half his life. But now he's headed back to Sunnydale and learns some things never change.

Random Note: Most chapters won't be out this quickly, but I was in a good mood.

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Chapter Two

Counting Blue Cars

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Alexander found his old room pretty much the same as he left it. A little musty, a little dusty, and the wallpaper was beginning to yellow with age. The carpet was lighter in the places where the sun had hit it, bleached by the hot California rays, and the bookshelf built into the wall looked about ready to give up the ghost.

But other than that nothing had changed. He sighed and looked around his bare room. His father had told them to leave everything, saying that they were going to start over with no reminders of their old lives, including all of their furniture and half of their wardrobes. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye to his friends or anything.

Not that he'd had a lot of friends. But a few.

He wondered how that was going to effect them. One day he was laid up in the hospital and the next…poof. There was a 'For Sale' sign in the front yard, the dog had been sold off, he'd been pulled from school and Xander Harris had just…vanished into the ether. Then again they hadn't come to see him the few days he'd spent in the hospital after waking up or called in the two weeks he'd spent at home before moving away.

Did they even care?

Still…he was going to miss them. He was going to miss Xander. He couldn't help but feel that with this yearlong gap in his memory and leaving behind everything he could remember that he wasn't really Xander anymore. Maybe…he should start over.

It wasn't such a bad idea. Almost completely new town, new high school, new people…why not a new him to go along with it. No more dorky Xan-man at least. That wasn't such a terrible thought really. He'd never really liked how awkward he was anyway.

He leaned against the window frame and watched with a sort of detached interest as the particles danced in the streams of sunlight. He blew and watched as the dust bobbed and scattered away from the light and left his view.

"Alexander?" He'd told his parents he was leaving Xander behind and both had seemed delighted by his decision, gladly calling him by the name he'd hated growing up. (Not that sixteen really constituted as 'grown up' or anything, but still.) He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but for the time being it was okay.

He blinked and looked over to see his mother standing in the doorway of his bedroom. She looked strangely at home against the Cowboy and Indians wallpaper he'd been subjugated to as a child. He imagined he looked very out of place.

"Yes mom?"

Years ago his mother had been that girl, the one everyone fawned over, wanted to be with, or just plain wanted to be. She'd been friendly to everyone and no one had ever accused her of being shallow, but rather…above them all. That one girl who was too good to be true.

A cheerleader…no, that wasn't right. She had been _the_ cheerleader back in her day. Thick sand colored hair, big doe eyes, and 'legs that went on for miles' according to his father. Xander always knew it was time to leave the room when his mother started giggling and his father got all starry eyes while talking about how she used to execute perfect high kicks and guys used to fall all over her.

She could have had any man she wanted and she went for a slightly geeky member of the chess club. It had amazed everyone.

Hell, it even amazed him sometimes that they were together and, after twenty still seemed to love each other. Other parents grew apart, divorced, remarried…not his though. They had something else…something lasting. He had a feeling the world could go to hell and they'd still stay together anyway.

His mother liked to worry about her fading looks but he didn't really see it. Her hair was beginning to thin out a little bit, and she needed glasses to read, and she certainly wasn't going to be doing any high kicks, sure. But she was still beautiful. She'd been the mom that all of his friends thought was 'so hot' and it'd been embarrassing but still…nice.

"Hmm. I'd forgotten about this paper. You hated it so much." She touched the aged paper almost reverently. He snorted.

"Still do."

"You can paint over it I think." She walked closer to him and put a hand on his arm, offering a small smile. He scowled at the thought.

"How about we move Sage in here?"

Sage was his younger brother. It had been strange at first, staring at the boy who looked so much like him and having no idea who he was. For the life of him he hadn't been able to put Sage into any of the memories he had of his family. Not at first anyway. With time however that had changed. It seemed like every time he slept he gained new memories of the younger teen.

Now it was like he'd known him forever…well, fifteen years. Same difference.

Still sometimes he looked at Sage and couldn't help but see a girl; taller than she had any right to be with long brown hair and the most beautiful green eyes (1) he'd ever seen. He felt this strange protective pull whenever she came to his mind, as if keeping her safe was one of the most important things in the world. He felt the same pull for Sage though, along with this strange feeling of…knowing that he had to keep him safe at all costs, and was trying to focus on that and not the girl.

What else could he do, really?

"I'm sure he'd love that." The sarcasm was so thick Alexander could have choked on it. His mother had always had a very dry and harsh sense of humor, which his brother had inherited completely. Xander took after his mother and his father, landing him somewhere between obvious sarcasm and things so subtle most people just looked confused.

He sighed, rubbing at his arm almost anxiously. "He'd probably rather be back home actually."

The gauze had come off to reveal identical scars, long and running the entire length of his arm that had been bandaged. He'd tried to get his parents and brother to confess what had happened, not that he couldn't guess, but the most he got was Sage telling him he'd had a 'rough time' after the 'accident' and that he'd been really depressed.

He'd been tempted to say 'no shit' to that, but had let it slide. Was it really so much to want to know what the hell had driven him to trying to kill himself?

She sighed and looked away for a moment, voice dropping to a soft whisper. "It'll get better here, I promise."

He shook his head. "I don't think it'll ever be better, no matter where we are."

His brother looked at him like he might snap at any moment and he couldn't even reassure him that he wouldn't do it. His father was quiet and…distant, treating him as if he had some kind of terminal and contagious disease, but also never letting him out of his sight. He and Sage had gone around the corner for tape for the moving boxes and their father had almost had a heart attack and yelled himself silly. On top of that his mother always looked a few steps from crying.

And he didn't know why.

"Sure it will. Your father has a much better job here and Sunnydale High is supposed to be one of the best schools in the state academically. And it's supposed to be very safe so we won't have to worry about and Sage getting in trouble. We might even be able to persuade your father to let you out of his sight."

"None of that is going to make Dad stop hating me." It wouldn't stop the questions swirling around his brain.

"Oh Xander." Her arms wrapped around him and he couldn't help but feel five years old, clinging to mommy after a bad nightmare. Part of him was desperate to shrug her away but another part of him just wanted to stay in her arms and pretend everything was fine. "Your father doesn't hate you. He couldn't hate you." One hand reached up and she began to pet his hair. "He just…he's just confused. Not what sure to think or do with you. So much is different. I think he's afraid of you."

She pulled away to stare up at him and he could see the tears glimmering in her eyes. He looked away. He didn't want to see her crying again. It was funny to think he'd once wanted his parents to care more about what he did and not think of him as the good son they could automatically trust. He's wanted their attention when he'd started high school and now he couldn't seem to rid himself of their constant presence.

It was…ironic.

But nice.

She brushed his hair back from his eyes and he saw her forcing a bright smile from the corner of his eye. "But none of that now. I have a surprise for you."

"You're willing to confess that Bill and Ted's Adventures were extremely underrated?"

She blinked slowly. "No. I said surprise, not lie. Honestly Alexander."

He sighed as he followed her out of the bedroom and down the stairs into the kitchen. His father was sitting at the table and going through a sheaf of papers while Sage sat at the island and read a comic. X-Force, a good one in his humble opinion.

Not as good as it had once been, now that Cable, Rictor, and 'Star were gone but still damn good. He said as much as he followed his mother out of the door and Sage made a face before jumping up, suddenly excited. He was practically bouncing.

Scary on his usually serious brother.

"Dad, c'mon, mom's going to show him now."

"Show me what?" He asked, suddenly suspicious. His father set down the papers, a smile curving his lips.

"A gift. New school, new you…we thought we'd give you a little something. It's in the front."

He arched an eyebrow then, with a slightly shrug, headed for the front. He skirted the boxes in the dining room as well as the new table and chair set his mother had seemed very pleased with. Almost as pleased as she was about the living room set they'd had moved in that morning; black and red floral print.

He thought she was kind of easily amused, but whatever it took to make her smile was more than welcome by him. He paused by the front door, glancing back at his family who were all grinning like total idiots. He rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, squinting against the bright light.

It took a moment to adjust to the change and then he saw it. Next to his father's sensible black Honda was a pale blue car, top town and showing off cream-colored leather. It was old obviously…no, it was classic. There was a difference; his grandmother was old and this was so not his grandmother. This was beautiful. It felt strangely familiar as he walked over and touched the hood, like he'd been here before.

He shoved that feeling aside and looked up at the house. His father was almost smirking and his mother was staring at him, a hopeful smile on her face. He swallowed, not able to speak for a moment and then, finally, he just shook his head.

"This…oh…god. You two are the best parents ever."

His mother laughed softly, moving closer to his father. "Did you hear that Curtis, we're 'the best parents ever'."

He gave her a light squeeze. "I heard Lacy. I never thought I'd see the day."

"You're being weird again." Sage commented, darting around them and down into the driveway. "So what do you think? I helped pick it out."

Xander reached out and ruffled sandy blond locks. "It's beautiful. You actually did something right for a change brat. I can't wait to get be able to drive this."

"Well why don't you. Get acquainted with the town; see what there is to see. Maybe go past the high school." His mother said, smiling so wide her face had to hurt. She glanced sideways at his father, who was clearly hesitating. "We don't want you getting lost, right?"

Another long pause then his father nodded as if it pained him to do so. "Yes. Go ahead, but don't be out late. It's a school night."

Both he and Sage stood still for a moment, neither able to believe their luck before exchanging glances and all but scrambling into the car. Xander had a moment of brief confusion when Sage popped open the glove compartment and extracted a key ring. There were only two keys and it was obvious, thankfully, which key went to the car.

The other must have been for the house. They'd been latch key kids before and it did make sense that their mother would find another job here.

He turned the car on, almost letting out a very unmanly squeal when it turned over and purred to life, before looking into the rearview mirror and beginning to back out of the driveway. He had been worried for a moment because he hadn't remembered driving but it was coming back to him like he'd been doing it forever.

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Once the boys were gone Curtis let out a breath and glared at his wife, who just arched an eyebrow at him before turning around, blue skirt trailing after her. He stared at her retreating form, unable to keep from taking a moment to admire it.

He really loved that woman.

Even when she was being her usual infuriating herself. She was the most stubborn person he'd ever encountered, but she was always at her best when she was determined. He'd always through he was a fierce competitor; that was what it took to be an attorney after all, but he was nothing compared to her. She'd been the star at the real estate office she worked out, almost doubling the number of sales the rest of the office made combined.

When he'd started planning the move she'd jumped onto the idea, citing it as a chance to start her own business and really make a name for herself and 'hiring' him as the lawyer for her future business. It'd happened if five second flat and his head was still spinning.

But back to the problem at hand. "Lace-"

"We can't keep them cooped up." Her voice drifted from the kitchen. "They are growing boys and moving them was bad enough."

"I thought you thought-"

"It is a good idea, I'm just saying that it's enough. We have to let them go out into the world and meet people and have friends and…people who will be more than friends."

He walked into the kitchen and found her putting the teapot onto the stove. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She smirked at him over her shoulder.

"I want to protect them. After what happened to Xan I don't know if I can just…let them out again. I know you feel the same."

She leaned against him, sighing softly. "Of course I do. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't want to lock them up and never let the world hurt them, hmm? I just know that the holder we hold the more they'll want to be loose. It's human nature."

"I suppose."

"This way they may come to us with a problem instead of hiding it." She said quietly, head resting on his shoulder. "If we hadn't pushed him so hard he may have come to us and we could have talked to him instead of being in the dark."

He closed his eyes for a moment then nodded, pulling her closer. "Maybe. I just…"

"I know." She patted his hand lightly then twisted away, smiling brightly. "And think of it this way. At least we have forewarning for when Xander brings home his first boyfriend."

He couldn't help but wince at that. "You don't think…he doesn't remember."

"I doubt amnesia is going to change his sexuality." She deadpanned before fixing a stern look on him. "And we wouldn't want it any other way, would we?"

"…" He looked away from her gaze and sat down at the table, looking at his hands. "I won't let him be hurt again Lace. I'd rather smother him and have him hate me than go through that again. He tried to kill himself. I can't just forget that and…I can't. I thought he was dead; he was so pale and his eyes…god."

"I know." And he knew she did. She'd been so broken up when he'd called to let her know, even though it was him who'd walked into the hospital bathroom to find their son bleeding out over the tiles. He hadn't been able to move at first, possessed by the thought of how completely wrong it was for this to be happening. How could he have failed his child so much?

He'd always thought he was a pretty decent father but everything that had happened had made him question that.

Still he knew she was right. He looked over at her and found her staring at him with the whiskey colored eyes both their boys had inherited. He opened his mouth to tell her that he understood what she was saying when someone knocked on the backdoor. She shrugged at him to show she didn't know who could be there.

The only people who knew they were here was the real estate company Lacy had gotten the house through. They'd been lucky to find their old house, never having been lived in again, and she'd managed to get it back for half of what they'd sold it for. She walked over and, after peaking through the curtain, opened the door.

"Hello?"

"Hello ma'am." It was a man's voice, accented…English if Curtis was forced to guess. "I'm Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, I live next door to you. I just moved in myself but I understand it's customary to…welcome new neighbors to the neighborhood."

"Oh! Well thank you Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. I'm Lacy Harris and back there is my husband Curtis. I'm afraid you just missed our boys, Sage and Alexander."

The man chuckled. "Quite alright, and call me Wesley please. I doubt your sons would be interested in me and I'm afraid I can't get William to occupancy me much of anywhere these days. Ashamed of me I'd wager."

Curtis could feel Lacy's interest being peaked as she stepped aside to let the man enter. "You have a son?"

The man was a considerable amount younger than they were, early to mid twenties if Curtis was forced to guess, and dressed in a button white button down shirt and worn jeans. He looked comfortable, but there was still something very refined about the way he carried himself. While Curtis wouldn't say he was too young to have kids, he looked too young to have a kid old enough to not want to be seen in public with his old man.

"Not exactly. I'm more of a…guardian to them, William and his sister, but I'm quite fond of them. They just turned sixteen and keep me…very busy." The man sighed tiredly, but Curtis could easily read the satisfied glint in his eyes. He was proud of them.

"Well, it's settled then. You'll have to come over for dinner and bring your twins." Lacy said, voice implying it was the most obvious thing in the world. Wesley quirked an eyebrow in Curtis' direction and he just shrugged, trying to get across that it wasn't worth arguing about. "Alexander is sixteen and Sage is fifteen, maybe they'll be friends."

Wesley smiled, though Curtis couldn't help but notice a slight shadow cross over his face as his eyes flickered over to the setting sun. "Perhaps."

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He was running, mind racing. It didn't make sense. He'd been at the club, the Bronze or something. It was kind of an echo in the back of his mind, from before he'd woken up again. He'd needed something, his body howled for…something. He hadn't known what until he'd stumbled into the club and realized he could hear…almost see the blood flowing through the veins of the teenagers inside.

He'd known then what he'd needed. He'd chatted up a hot brunette in tight leather pants and a red halter top, who wore dark makeup and deep red lipstick that had stirred even more echoes in his mind, of sweaty hot fumbling in the dark and soft curves under his hands. They'd danced, so close it was almost as indecent as just having sex on the floor.

He'd led her outside, enjoying the way she smiled sultrily as they walked for the back alley. Then he'd pushed her against the wall, feeling his face shift and went to take from her. Only to be backhanded at least five yards and go rolling into the dumpster. She'd smirked, withdrawing a very sharp piece of wood, and he'd run away.

He knew what she was, drawing on memories not his own but rather passed to him by the one who made him what he was. Slayer, killer of his kind. She would destroy him if she caught him and he could hear her booted feet slamming against he ground as she chased him through the shadows. He was headed for the graveyard because…it was familiar. He'd woken there, emerged from the dirt in that place. It was…safe?

Something else floated in with the memory of the slayer, something he felt he should know because it was important. Something about a boy-

His thoughts went flying as he went crashing into an arm, which caught him in the throat and sent him flying again. He went crashing into a gravestone and started to climb to his feet when a boot landed on his chest and pushed him back. He looked up into bright blue eyes and was rewarded with a smirk identical to the one the slayer had worn.

This was the other thing, the thing he needed to remember. "Who are you?"

The boy sighed, twirling a sharpened piece of wood between his fingers. "I swear it's always the same question. Just once I'd like someone to know why I am, you know what I mean mate?" The boot moved only to be replaced with the boy's knees, which dug into his stomach sharply. "The name is Spike, ta very much."

He started to say something but a sharp pain made his words become a squeak before he felt himself fly into a million directions.

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Spike stood up, dusting off his jeans and picking up his stake. His sister came jogging into view a second later, took a look at him and pouted.

"Damn it Spike, that was mine!"

"Sorry."

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow going up. "Doubtful. I'm telling Wesley."

He rolled his eyes and slung an arm around her shoulders. "I'm shaking. Like your pansy ass wanker of a watcher is going to do anything to me. I'm the Big Bad little sister."

"_Our_ pansy ass wanker of a watcher." She corrected lightly. "And you know how he gets when you wander around the graveyard alone, _William_. Lets see how much of a Big Bag you are then."

"Don't bloody call me that" He muttered. They glared at each other for a long moment then he rolled his eyes again. She smirked then inclined her head slightly.

"Lets go. The gang is probably waiting for us."

With that said the pair headed towards The Bronze, the only half decent place in Sunnydale to hang out, with hopes of being semi-normal teenagers for a few hours.

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1) …sure. Why not. Green works…I think Dawn's eyes were blue though…oh well.

2) Don't ask questions, but rather be content in the knowledge that this will be explained thoroughly later on.

Jade: Yeah, Spike is Xan's guardian angel. We won't see much of him, unless Xan is botching things up very badly. We have this reality's Spike/Will to deal with after all.

Argo: Yes, Sunnydale is still a Hellmouth. Wouldn't be any fun if it weren't. As for how this universe works it's…think Sliders only with Xander doing a Quantum Leap instead of there being two Xanders. (…If that was too 'Geek Mode' for you let me know) So the Anya, Cordy, and Spike we know still exist in the heavens, while 'human' versions exist in the world Xander now inhabits. …It'll make sense eventually.

Thalia: Glad you like the characterization, at least for the first chapter. It's going to all be thrown outta whack…nowish. lol.

T-me: …it's not happy. I don't do happy. I'm clinically unable to manage such a tale. I have a doctor's note and everything.

Ama: Wow…I'm not sure 'impressed' is a word I hear often… I'd love to take credit for the plot, but someone else gave it to me. The rest was all me and so I shall revel in your praise for a few moments, if you don't mind…

Selene: More Xander…I can do that.

Ashley: Well, per Xander's wish, Buffy is in LA and isn't a slayer sooo…I'm not sure if she'll ever actually appear in this. She, obviously, never burnt down her school fighting vamps and thus has no reason to move to Sunnydale.

Mechante: Ahhh, blame it on the cat. I see how it is. My new computer is beautiful. All purple-y and new and working and stuff… As we saw, Spike is of the…semi-human variety here (I wouldn't call Faith human in any context and they're siblings here), but you asked a good question regarding what Spike (and Cordy since she's in much the same position) might or might not know. It's a shame I can't tell you the answer, isn't it? _Smirks._ Dimi tells me you're familiar with Sage and are 'fond' of him. I'm sorry about that…


	3. Sunnyhell High

The Sunny Side of Hell

Disclaimer #1: Logic problem: I am not Joss. Joss owns. Therefore I do not own.

Disclaimer #2: I'm just not creative enough to come up with my own OCs, therefore Sage belongs to Dimitri Aidan, who also supplied this idea.

Author: Rochelle B

Dedications: Dimitri Aidan, who needs a life in the worst way and Aloysha Star, who is God when it comes to 'guy emotions' and gay sex. Because he's a slut. Seriously, ask him, he'll tell you.

Rating: R to NC-17

Parings: Various. Main: Xander/Spike, Faith/Gunn,

Warnings: Slash, language, sex, violence... Alternate Universe. Child abuse, rape, angst, fluff.

Summery: Xander makes a wish and the world changes; Buffy isn't a slayer, Spike isn't a vampire, and he's lived in LA half his life. But now he's headed back to Sunnydale and learns some things never change.

Random Note: Now, for those of us not following along, Faith is the slayer, William/Spike is her twin brother and has some powers of his own going on (will be clarified later) Wesley is a pansy ass wanker of a watcher and fledges are still stupid. Oh, and I'm on some kind of writing spree…

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Chapter Three

Sunnyhell High

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Alexander looked at the piece of paper that detailed his assigned parking spot, locker number, homeroom, and classes for the day. He looked over at Sage who appeared to be doing much the same. They had just passed through the gate that lead to the student parking lot and were now following what looked like a line of cars all headed in the same general direction.

"You ready?"

Sage looked up, brown eyes startled for a moment before he shrugged. "I suppose. It's gonna be weird, I've been in school with the same people my whole life. High school as the new guy."

He nodded, eyes turning back to the road. The car ahead of him was moving, finally and Xander needed to look out for the Sophomore/Junior parking lot.

"I'm sorry about all of this."

"It's not your fault."

"Bull shit. You shouldn't have to move just because I had some kind of breakdown." He said just as the sign came into sight. He turned down the gravel road then glanced at Sage again. "I'm just sorry is all and…I wish I could make it up to you."

Sage was silent for a few moments, giving Xander time to locate his spot and pull in. He started to put the top up when his brother was inclined to speak again.

"It's probably better that we moved. Things would have been bad back home but if it's that important I guess you could promise me not to do what you did last time. If you remember I mean. Maybe talk to me before you decide to kill yourself." The suggesting was light but there was a hint of what may have been annoyance underneath.

Alexander had the strange urge to blush in embarrassment in spite of not remembering what had occurred. He wasn't sure what had driven him to slitting his wrists but he couldn't help but feel, in that moment at least, that he didn't have a nearly good enough reason for it.

"Yeah. I think I can do that." He said finally. The top was up all the way so he pushed the locks into place then pushed the door open. Sage followed his lead, stretching as he did, before grabbing his bag and heading for the steps that led up to the quad. Xander followed, looking around at the crowd of people heading that way as well, all seeming to be talking and hanging out in groups. God, but being the new kid was going to suck.

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Mr. Flutie must have been scarred deeply as a child, most likely because his last name was Flutie and kids had a tendency to be mean as hell. Alexander could see how that could scar a person and turn them into an overly happy, slightly overweight and balding high school principal.

He had greeted the two of them with an unnaturally friendly smile before telling them to sit down so they could get to business. First he'd told Sage how happy he was to have such an academically accomplished student in Sunnydale High, while Sage blushed bright red, before he turned his gaze to Alexander. Who was now squirming under his gaze, very uncomfortable with that amount of attention.

"And you, the elder Mr. Harris. Do you have a name you prefer; Alex, Lex, Xander? Or do you just go by Alexander?"

While Lex brought to mind bald megalomaniac billionaires with alien obsessions, Alex conjured up imaged of him with pigtails, which was just disturbing and wrong on so many unidentifiable levels. It was a toss up between risking exposing his (not so inner) comic geek and a uni-sex name that seemed to lean towards the girlie, in his mind anyway.

"Alex is fine."

Flutie smiled for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Good good. Not I understand you have some memory loss concerning events that transpired in San Francisco. However after testing you we've found that you're on about the same level as most of the other juniors so that shouldn't be a problem. I realize that this will seem foolish considering the circumstances but its mandatory that both of you visit with the school counselor once a week. Her name is Miss French; she's new but seems to be popular among the students."

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Fun, he and some middle-aged lady who just wanted to be his friend could sit around for god-only-knew-how-long and talk about things he couldn't remember. It sounded like he was in for all sorts of fun.

Sage looked every bit as enthusiastic as his brother. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I thought I was done with all of that."

That gave Lex a moment's pause. "I didn't know you had to-"

"After you…they made me told to the school therapist. Then mom and dad sent me to another shrink." Sage looked sullen as he spoke. "They said that once we moved I would be finished."

"Well you were, there. I'm afraid you have to attend a few sessions; school policy and all." Flutie did actually look apologetic for a few seconds before his smile returned. Alex was seriously disturbed; he was already wishing for the harsh hard-edged principal from Middle School. "You never know, it may be useful to you, with everything new that's happening."

"Maybe."

"Well. I've found students with schedules more or less identical to your own to help guide you through the first few days. Andrew Wells, another one of our gifted freshman, and Daniel Osborne for you Alex. They should be outside of the office waiting. I sincerely hope you two have a good first day."

That said he turned his attention to a bunch of papers of his desk. Sensing they'd been dismissed Alex and Sage left the office, exchanging amused looks as they did. How in the hell anyone forced to deal with teenagers all day could be anything resembling happy was beyond Alex; he was a teenager and he didn't even like dealing with other teenagers.

The dangers of an anti-social youth, truly.

As Flutie has said there were two teens waiting outside of the office. Both looked as if they were less than pleased with the fact there were there, which Alex could understand. No one liked being called to the office, even if the person in charge was damn perky. The shorter redhead looked especially annoyed and Alex assumed he was Daniel, if for no other reason than he looked a little too…grungy, in comparison to the nervous looking blond, to be Sage's guide.

The redhead was shorter than Alex, about Sage's height, with red hair tipped in black and very intense hazel eyes. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his worn looking blue jeans and he was wearing a 'The Cure' t-shirt. The blond was about the same height, but dressed a little more 'properly' in tans slacks and a white button down. Blue-green eyes darted around nervously, focusing on everything except the people in the office.

Alex was going to go out on a limb and say he got his ass kicked at least every-other day, maybe every single day depending on the tormenter to tormented ratio the school had. Alex could only hope it was strongly in favor of the tormented otherwise this kid was screwed.

And, for that matter, so was Alex. He was something of a bully magnet, unless he'd undergone a serious personality shift in his freshman year or something. He'd have to ask Sage about it later on.

The redhead pushed off of the wall he'd been leaning against, eyes darting between Sage and Alex quickly before settling on Alex.

"Harris?"

"Alex. This is my brother Sage." He inclined his head towards the younger teen who raised a hand a little warily.

"Oz. Can I see your schedule?"

Alex held it out, blinking. "I thought we had the same one." He got a shrug in reply even as the other teen started towards the door of the office, eyeing Alex's schedule as if it was some kind of foreign object he'd never seen before.

"Selective attendance. Later 'Drew."

"Bye Oz." The blond squeaked before blushing a vivid red and ducking his head. Alex arched an eyebrow at that. This kid was either the most nervous person ever, or…well, that was about it really. He said bye to Sage quickly then went after his guide, who didn't seem too concerned with whether or not he was following along or not.

Then again, this kid practiced selective attendance so it was wholly probable that he was too busy trying to remember where the hell the classes were to actually pay any attention to Alex. He fell into step with the redhead, noting that thee halls were really much easier to get through when there weren't hundreds of kids packed into them, with only half of those kids actually moving while the other half stood around and talked like they didn't have anywhere to go and so no one else could possibly have anywhere to go either.

"You just move here?"

"Moved back." Alex said with a shrug. "From 'Frisco."

Oz smiled wryly. "I didn't know people moved back to Sunnydale unless on threat of death. It's a…one Starbucks type of town, you know?"

Alex stared. "Only one Starbucks? Are you kidding me? You have to be kidding; where'm I going to get my daily caffeine fix? I can't function without it…not that I function with it, but you know, the principal of the matter. It's just not right." The redhead chuckled. "So this is really a sleepy All-American town?"

Oz snorted darkly. "Not exactly. Things have been known to get…hairy after dark."

"Nightlife. That's encouraging." Alex said, trying to ignore the cryptic comment. He had the strange sinking feeling that he really didn't want to know what he was talking about.

"Eh. There's The Bronze. Club where anyone under 21 tends to go if they want to seem 'badass'. My band plays there sometimes."

"Band. Cool."

Oz shrugged at that before stopping outside of a classroom and, after checking Alex's schedule one last time pushing the door open. Alex followed, trying to remember what this was. Art? European History? Geometry?

"My god, Mr. Osborne!" A sort man with hair on either side of his head, but not in the middle, said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "You've decided to attend. Did smoking behind the school get boring?"

The class snickered but the redhead just blinked placidly. "New boy."

The teacher looked over at Alex, mouth twisting into a very unattractive scowl. "Just what I need, more sloppy slackers with no hope of ever achieving anything. You're one of the Harris boys, yes?"

"Uh. Yes?"

The man sneered. "I'm sorry, was the question too confusing for you? Which one are you; I'll have you both this year. I can hardly contain my joy."

"Alex. The older one."

"Right. I should have figured; you don't look quite bright enough to pursue Geometry in your freshman year. Take one of the seats in the back…I don't suppose Flutie was kind enough to supply you with a book?" At Alex's headshake he sneered again. "Of course not. Useless man…Ms. Chase if you would be so kind as to share with the girl next to you and allow Mr. Harris and Osborne to borrow your book."

"My pleasure Mr. Snyder." Alex looked to see a brunette girl looking up from her vigorous nail filing. She eyed Alex distastefully for a moment then held up her book. "After all, it's my duty to make sure new students feel welcome."

"Indeed." Snyder said. "Take Ms. Chase's book, be sure to return it, and go to the library on your free period, if that's not too much trouble for you."

Alex nodded and headed towards the girl. She was attractive, with dark brown eyes to match her seemingly perfectly in place hair. Her shirt, a dark blue, was low cut and her shirt was high, showing shapely legs, and Alex couldn't help but feel he'd stumbled across the prettiest/most popular girl already. The one girl that poor slack jawed idiots like him lusted over but never had a chance with in public, because they were the sort who were pale in the summer, thought 'highlights' referred to the magazine in the doctors office, and were virgins until college.

"Stare much?" She asked, a faintly amused expression on her face. Alex blinked, realizing he'd been doing just that, and took the book before trying to scurry to the back to wallow in shame in peace. "Weren't you wearing that yesterday Osborne?"

The redhead paused, as if thinking about it. "Probably."

Her nose wrinkled. "Do you even shower stoner-boy?"

Another shrug. "Every few days."

"Gross." She said while turning her attention to the blond next to her, who was giggling behind her hand. "They should have health codes against people like you."

"Sit down today Mr. Osborne!" Mr. Snyder snapped from the front.

Oz rolled his eyes then walked back and took the seat next to Alex. He pointed towards the brunette. "Queen C and her satellites; stereotypical cheerleaders. Its best to avoid them to avoid public humiliation."

"Got'cha."

Stay away from the nasty cheerleaders. He sincerely doubt he'd have a problem with that, since they'd probably had no interest in being around him anyway. The many wonders of being dorky and lower-middle class.

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Mechante: Ahh…what am I going to do to Sage. That is the question. And, on that note, you're very right about what he is. I tried to make it obvious, as there is a time for cryptic jerking around and a time to be plain about what you're doing. As for Xan's parents…as you may have noticed, he didn't wish for anything concerning them and, even more than that, wishes are very tricky things… For example when He wished for Spike to not have had to die I'm sure he didn't intend for him to end up human or related to Faith, you know? I went for Street Wise Gunn, as I think he'd go well with Faith. Jaded Super Lawyer seems to fit better with Jaded Whack Job Wesley, where as the Gunn in between those phases went very nicely with Fred…

Remity: It could go a lot of ways…it probably will go a lot of ways. This is one of those stories with no real definable ending point…


End file.
